This story was going to be longer but I came down with a case of writers block and decided to finish it sooner than planned. If enough people indicate a desire to read more (and the writers block does one) I may come back to it in the future.

The day outside was grey and drizzly. Outside the frosted bathroom window, the large birch tree was blowing around in brisk winds and it’s branches knocked against the window in sharp raps of wood on glass. Chris climbed out of the shower, wrapped a towel round his waist and heading downstairs went into the kitchen. Filling a bowl with the sort of cereal that looks good but tastes bad, Chris added milk and sat at the breakfast bar eating slowly, his eyes staring absently out of the window. It was a Monday morning and in just under an hour, he’d be on his way to work.

Finishing his cereal, he put the bowl in the sink and went back upstairs to his bedroom. Dropping the towel, he started to get dressed for work. Chris was twenty-nine years old. A Caucasian man standing at 6 foot 2 with light green eyes and black hair that covered his head as well as in a neat beard. His chest was muscular but that was down to natural build rather than any effort. The healthy cereal was actually a recent change to counterbalance his generally unhealthy eating habits. His arms and legs were hairy but the rest of his body was fairly smooth but for a neat little patch above his crotch. Hanging below this was his most distinctive feature, his thick 10 inch cock. Pulling on a grey pair of boxers, Chris then pulled on his crisp black work trousers, an equally crisp white shirt, suit jacket and plain tie in a bottle green. Running a comb through his hair, he set off for work.

Pulling into the car park, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he opened the message he’d just received from his beat friend Jackson.

Hey man. Wanna meet up tonight? Martin’s been raving about that new fried chicken place and I want to check it out. Maybe grab a couple of beers after?

Chris rolled his eyes. Jackson was his best friend, well really more of a brother. Certainly he was closer to him then any family he still had living. He didn’t speak to his parents. When he was eighteen, he’d learnt his mum was cheating on his dad. She’d started sleeping with her boss, who was twice his dad’s age but had three times his income. His dad found out and a few months later, he started sleeping with a bimbo who was half his mums age but with three times her cleavage. That lasted until Chris was nineteen and the bimbo slept with him; taking his virginity because he was half his dad’s age with three times his cock size.

Chris glanced at his phone again and contemplated the message. He wondered if he should decline. He’d reminded Jackson several times recently that too much beer made him belch. And that too much fried food made him fart. He typed out a message.

Sure man. See you later. I’ll pick you up after work.

He went in through the employee door and turned his mind to his days work. The firm he worked for was a small company that employed about twenty-four people. It was owned by a Mr Goodwin, a fifty-seven year old black man who was smart as a whip. The man was also generous with pay and rewarded loyalty amongst his employees. Chris had worked for the company for six years and he loved his job. Loved feeling valued by his boss for the work he did. That’s why he’d continued to work there. Four years ago his grandfather had died. He’d been a wealthy man and he’d left behind a will which paid Chris an income of two grand a month. He could have stopped working then, but he loved his work too much.

He walked to his desk and glanced around at his colleagues. There was Darryl, Glynnis, Cheryl, Bryan, Brandon, Keith, Louis, Edward, Sally and Amanda. These were the people that Chris spent every working day with. Another dozen people spent most of their time on the road and only occasionally came into the office. Chris’s role was complaint resolution and he was extremely good at it. He was intelligent and meticulous in his work. When talking to customers his professional manner and natural charisma established a quick and easy rapport with people. In this way he managed to resolve the majority of complaints to the company without the need to pay out large amounts in compensation. And this is why Mr Goodwin loved him and had given him a pay increase about four months ago.

Sitting down at his desk, his eyes fell on the final person sitting in the room. Chris didn’t actually know her name. No one did. She was Miss Goodwin, the bosses daughter. She was a qualified accountant and two years ago when the previous accountant had retired, Mr Goodwin had brought his daughter into the role to start learning the family business. Then when Mr Goodwin had had a stroke nine months ago, his daughter had taken on the role of Manager on a day to day basis whilst her father recuperated. No one at the office had seen Mr Goodwin in months. Miss Goodwin had been the one to actually inform him about the pay rise and she hadn’t looked happy about it. She didn’t talk to anyone outside of professional matters and exhibited none of the warmth that her father had always projected amongst his staff.

The work day progressed as usual. Chris managed to resolve seven minor complaints from customers without the need for compensation. He was in a good mood as he left work and was now actually looking forward to fried chicken and beers with Jackson. Leaving his desk he noticed Miss Goodwin still working. Her face looked tired and she stared blankly at the papers in front of her. Everyone else had left, as he reached the door he glanced over his shoulder.

“Good night.” He said politely. She barely looked up from her papers. Her returned farewell was subdued. Chris frowned. Even though Miss Goodwin kept to herself, she was usually polite at least. Must have had a hard day, he thought and headed out the door. Driving round to Jackson’s, he picked up his friend and drove into town.

“Hey man.” Jackson said as he got into the car. Chris repeated the greeting with a smile. Jackson grinned back at him.

“Ready for a wild night on the town?” he asked. Chris laughed.

“Wild night? Man we both have work in the morning. One or two beers with my buddy but its hardly going to be a grand piss up.” Jackson held up his hands.

“I know, I know. But the night is young. Anything could happen. This might be the night we meet the love of our lives.”

Chris scoffed.

“Shit chance of that happening.” He said.

“Don’t be so bitter. I know your relationship with Hayley ended badly, but….”

“All my relationships end badly. And they all end the same way.” Chris told his friend. Jackson cocked an eyebrow and Chris sighed, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

“Bedroom problems.” He confessed. Jackson looked disbelieving.

“No way, even with that fucking huge python of yours.” Chris rolled his eyes. Three years earlier he and Jackson had dated twin sisters for a couple of months. His partner had told her sister, who had told Jackson, who had confronted him.

“That’s the problem. No woman I’ve met can handle me long term.”

“That sucks man. Still the right woman is just round the corner. Believe me, deep down women are all sluts for a huge cock.” Chris rolled his eyes again and pulling into a parking space, turned off the engine.

A few hours later, Chris and Jackson were sat at the bar in their favourite pub as a pair of beers were put in front of them. Jackson rubbed his stomach in satisfaction.

“Man oh man! That chicken was so fucking good.”

Chris nodded. The fried chicken at the new restaurant that had recently opened in town really was to die for, even though he’d only eaten half the amount Jackson had to try to limit gastric issues later. He took a swig of his beer and almost immediately belched. He grimaced, wishing he could enjoy a beer without the associated gassiness. Jackson took his own swig of beer and sighed with satisfaction.

“If only I could find a job that paid me to drink beer and eat fried chicken I’d be in heaven.” He said.

“Still having problems at work?” Chris asked his friend. Jackson shrugged.

“The HR manager is a cunt.” He said. “I know the pandemic scared people, but she’s made it a health and safety offence to sneeze or cough on premises. I’ve received two warnings in the last month. If it weren’t for the pay I’d jack it in now.” The two men chatted about their jobs whilst they drank their beers. Draining his second glass, Jackson signalled for another round and then turned to his friend.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to mention, what do you want to do for Martin’s thirtieth?” Chris finished his own beer and winced slightly as the barman put a third in front of him.

“Hold on!” He protested, “it’s my thirtieth before Martin’s. And we never did anything for my twenty-ninth.”

“Hey hey. You know that’s because we threw Rick his stag do. That was a great night. Remember the strippers?”

“Yeah three of them. Who went home with you, Martin and Dean. I got left behind with Rick hurling his guts up.”

Jackson looked a bit shamefaced.

“Okay man. I promise we’ll come up with something great for you this year.” Chris downed his third beer, belched again and said.

“Great. Now I’m heading home before I get pissed.”

Together they walked back to his car and drove off back towards Chris’s house, dropping Jackson back home en route. Arriving home, Chris entered his house. He didn’t bother turning on the light, instead stumbling blindly up the stairs and into his bedroom. He pulled off his shirt, his head pounding from the three beers he’d downed. He wondered vaguely what Jackson and the rest of the guys would come up with for his thirtieth birthday celebrations. Bending over he shoved his jeans down to his ankles. As he did so the first growl of stomach pain rumbled from between his arse cheeks. Climbing into bed, he closed his eyes and buried his face into the pillows. In the dark, he could smell his aftershave; woody and rugged. He could smell the slight odour of sweat, the scent of beer on his breath. He could smell the faint odour of stale smoke that still clung to the room since he’d quit smoking. Another long low rumble echoed through the room, adding another odour to the room. Chris screwed up his face in disgust and irritation. The whole room smelt of stale masculinity without the hint of anything female. Its been too long since I last had a woman in this room, Chris thought to himself as he went to sleep.

Three days later, Chris was at his desk working when a modulated, professional voice with just a hint of sternness spoke from behind him.

“Chris, may I see you privately for a minute?” Chris looked up and saw Miss Goodwin looking down at him from just beside his shoulder.

“Sure Miss Goodwin.” Chris replied locking his computer and standing up from his desk. He followed her across the room and into the private office that was usually occupied by her father but was currently used for private work related discussions. Miss Goodwin took her father’s seat and gestured for Chris to take the chair opposite her.

“Chris, I first want to say how much this company values your hard work and dedication. You manage to resolve complaints at almost the same rate as we did before the pandemic when there were two of you responsible for that role. Due to this it has not been necessary to expand our complaints team back to pre-pandemic levels.”

Chris looked at Miss Goodwin carefully, eyes analysing her expression. Clearly this meeting was not just to compliment him. Miss Goodwin continued,

“However, I would like to raise concerns about the amount of compensation that is being awarded.” Chris stared at her in genuine surprise.

“Miss Goodwin, I resolved 72% of my complaints without the need for compensation last month.” He protested. Miss Goodwin looked at him with a resolute expression.

“And whilst the company commends that achievement, we feel there is no reason that 90% of complaints should be resolved without compensation. In addition, when compensation is offered it should only exceed $50 if authorised by myself.”

“Your applying a cap on the amount of compensation I can offer?” Chris asked. Miss Goodwin nodded.

“This is not a reflection of how well you do your job. My father considers you one of our best employees, however we also feel it is important to limit the amount of company money that can be spent by staff without prior authorisation from Accounts.” Chris stared at her for a long moment, before nodding silently. Rising from his seat he left the office and went back to his desk. His mind went to what Jackson had said about his HR manager at drinks on Monday. He wouldn’t go so far as to call Miss Goodwin a cunt, but she’d just made his job a hell of a lot harder.

At lunchtime, Chris met up with Amanda in the break room. Amanda was a small sassy black woman with a big smile and short glossy hair dyed a shimmering silver. When she’d first joined the company, Chris had been more than a little interested in her. His sexual preferences leaned heavily towards black women and all three of the black women in the office; Amanda, Cheryl and Miss Goodwin had caught his eye at some point. His sense of professionalism had kept him from making a move however and so he and Amanda had stayed work colleagues despite a great chemistry between them.

“You okay Chris?” Amanda asked, “You look a bit flustered.” Chris nodded and explained his meeting with Miss Goodwin earlier in the day. Amanda patted his arm sympathetically.

“That sucks. You do such a great job. Did she say why you need to increase the amount of complaints you resolve without compensation?”

“No just that the company thinks there’s room for improvement.” Amanda rolled her eyes.

“You mean she felt there was room for improvement. She needs to relax and stop thinking about work all the time. I’ve invited her out with me and Cheryl so many times. She never comes.” Chris murmured supportively, but deep down didn’t blame Miss Goodwin for that. Amanda and Cheryl were both proud of their identities as black women and had long given the impression that they wanted Miss Goodwin to join their clique. Though Chris’s preferences were for black women, he’d always felt that relationships had to be based on more than an ethnic preference and he wouldn’t be surprised if Miss Goodwin felt the same way. On the other hand he agreed with Amanda that Miss Goodwin was too work focused and it would be healthier for her to relax a bit.

It was a feeling that crossed his mind again as he left work that evening. Just like Monday he was one of the last to leave the office. Unlike Monday, he felt drained and exhausted after a shattering day of trying to resolve complaints without compensation. It had been tough but he’d had some success, resolving three complaints between lunch and the end of the day. Logging out of his computer he rose to his feet and began following Brandon towards the door. Miss Goodwin was still at her desk, scribbling away on a notepad with black biro, occasionally switching to a yellow highlighter to mark keys sections of what she was working on. Her glossy black hair was pulled up in a tight bun which looked like a form of torture. Her face was tired and the hand that held the biro trembled slightly. Chris wondered if she’d even eaten that day. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and left. Getting into his car, he pulled out of his parking space and headed towards the apartment building where his buddy Martin lived. As he drove, Chris felt his spirits rise. Martin made the best steak and potatoes of anyone he’d ever known.

By the time nine o’clock came around, Chris was feeling relaxed and content. The steak and potatoes were stretching the waistband of his jeans. Four of Martin’s imported beers were coursing through his veins and at the moment, his team were winning the game. He and Martin were laughing and joking with each other and enjoying a bit of male bonding.

“So you know the guys are trying to plan something for our thirtieth birthdays?” Martin said. Chris nodded.

“Yeah Jackson was asking me about yours on Monday. I said none of you are getting anything decent from me until you make up for missing my twenty-ninth and leaving me out of your debauchery with the strippers from Rick’s bachelor party.” Martin laughed.

“Yeah okay we owe you something good this year. But what?” Chris belched, then shot his friend a look of apology.

“No biggie man.” Martin told him. “So any thoughts?”

“You want me to pick my own twenty-ninth/thirtieth/sorry we dumped you at the bachelor party present?” Chris asked sarcastically.

“No of course not dude. But you know guys are tough to buy for hey. Especially if you’re a guy buying for a guy. Hey has Rick told you what Lisa promised him for Christmas?” Chris shook his head.

“She’s promised him that they can do it in every room in the house.” Chris laughed, almost choking on his beer.

“They live in a bed-sit.” He snorted. Martin laughed to.

“Well yeah,” he admitted, “but what would you rather spend Christmas doing?”

“Oh man, you know I’d leap at the chance for a good hard fuck.”

“Yeah beats sitting around playing charades.”

The match ended and a raunchy adult movie began. The two guys stopped talking and their attention became fixed on the television. Neither mentioned it but they both began to stiffen inside their trousers as they watched the female lead removing her clothing. She was an icy blonde with piercing blue eyes. Her skin was a pale flawless cream except for two rosy pink nipples crowning her firm perky bosoms. Her legs were long and sultry. She didn’t have much of an arse but that didn’t stop the man she was making out with on screen slapping it as they locked lips. Her fingers unzipped the man’s trousers, gently removing his throbbing cock. Breaking the kiss, she slid softly, sensually down on to the floor and took the guy’s dick into her mouth. Her red lipstick left waxy red marks on the shaft as she pushed it further into her throat. Chris grimaced slightly, he enjoyed eating pussy but had never been in to getting sucked off by a partner. Those who had tried couldn’t handle his size anyway. Beside him Martin’s eyes were wide and his hand rubbed absently at his crotch.

“Damn that bitch is fit.” He groaned, his blue balls obvious on his face. Chris shrugged slightly.

“She’s got nice tits.” He conceded, “But the rest doesn’t do it for me.”

“Dude, she is hot. What would you chose for your perfect lover than?”

Chris stared at the screen for a moment.

“My ideal partner is a gorgeous black woman. Nice full tits and a firm juicy butt. The kind of woman who can go all night and let me fill her pussy with my jizz.”

“You like going bareback?”

“Definitely.” They finished watching the movie in silence, then Martin got up.

“I’m going to bed. You wanna take the couch man?” Chris nodded, deciding that would be better than driving with five beers inside him. Martin flicked off the light as he staggered to his bedroom and Chris stretched out on the sofa. Closing his eyes, and doing his best to block out the sounds of Martin beating his meat, Chris gradually fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next several weeks passed in a haze of nervous exhaustion and stressed irritability. Chris worked like a train, arriving at his desk before almost anyone else and not leaving until long after most others had left. The only one working longer hours was Miss Goodwin and though diametrically opposite in almost every way, their faces wore identical masks of tension during the next two weeks. What was stressing his bosses daughter, Chris had no idea. He was too focused on his own almost impossible remit. Hard as he worked, as charming and persuasive as he was, 90% of complaints to be closed without compensation was a huge task and one he wasn’t yet achieving. Chris obsessively watched his metrics as he worked, saw the numbers slowly creep passed 82%. He was heading in the right direction but still had a long way to go. Amanda and Glynnis both asked several times if he was feeling alright and suggested that he needed to slow down and take it easy on himself. Brandon was more blunt.